Birth of a Bird of Prey
by Akernis
Summary: Archon Kaelindrach of the Dark Tear Kabal of Commorragh takes his daughter Serynia with him to the Ancient Haemonculi of the Black Ascendant in order for her to undertake the metamorphosis of becoming one of the winged scourges.


**Title:** Birth of a Bird of Prey  
**Universe:** Warhammer 40k – Dark Eldar  
**Major Character:** Kaelindrach, Serynia  
**Minor Characters:** Rhakatra'akh  
**Author:** Akernis

The dark corridor was only illuminated by the occasional poisonous glow from the lamps sewn into the eye-sockets of incautious visitors now permanently fused into the walls of the superstructure.

The gloom did not bother Kaelindrach. Like all denizens of Commorragh his eyes were perfectly adapted to the unnatural twilight of the stolen suns that permeated the Dark City.

It was rare for the Archon of the Dark Tear Kabal to personally venture into the cavernous dismal lair of the haemonculi deep beneath his obsidian fortress spires in High Commorragh, but he had important business with the cadaverous lords that dwelled here.

At the end of the corridor was a twisted staircase that led further into the ominous labyrinth of the master-torturers.

As Kaelindrach descended deeper he felt the increasingly nervous energy of his companion.

Walking besides the Archon was his daughter and sole hierarch Serynia. A young eldar, Serynia was hardly over a century old and thus barely considered more than a girl-child in Commorite society. Her father didn't care. She had earned her place the only way respected in the meritocratic culture of the Kabals; by out-matching or eliminating anyone in her way to get the position she wanted, even having done so despite the fact that her status as the Archon's trueborn practically set her outside the hierarchy of power in its entirety.

Serynia was beautiful, even by eldar standards. Her amber eyes scintillated like stars and her dark lustrous hair, which usually twirled about her in silky curves, was braided in a long plait that hung down to her thighs. Her lithe form was clad in supple ghostplate armour that left very little of her slender and voluptuously curvaceous body to the imagination, while still providing ample protection.

There was however something strange over Serynia, an air, a quality...

The Craftworld words "_Innocence_" and "_purity_" did not exist in the tongue of the _Eladrith Ynneas_ but they were the closest equivalent the Archon could call to mind, and many rivals and enemies had thought her an easy target until she showed her true colours.

With each step they took into the haemonculi's creepy pit Kaelindrach's sharp senses could feel an increase in her nervousness, excitement and fear in equal measure.

As the pair reached the foot of the spiralling stairs they entered a huge cavernous chamber that seemed to have been cut, or perhaps grown, from a disturbing combination of rock, metal and organic matter. Dozens of separate corridors and tunnels led from this cluster point down to the various haemonculi laboratories, torture cells, regeneration chambers, wrack & grotesque dens and pain engine hives.

From one of the passageways echoed a cacophony of screams and wails that to any, the least bit empathic, species would have sounded spine-chillingly horrifying but to the dark eldar duo were like music to their sharp ears.

Due to the particular dissonance and rhythm of the symphony of pain Kaelindrach believed it to be the work of Nos'pheratuli, a fairly young haemonculus at a mere five millennia who were nevertheless particularly gifted in the arts of soul-tech, necromancy and parasite engine construction, and who was famous for not understanding the concept of "unwilling" test subjects.

The two eldar steered towards the passage at the far end of the chamber, the one that led to the very heart of this horrendous place.

The few wretched and hideous wracks that moved about the otherwise desolate area moved to intercept whoever was foolish enough to enter their realm while their masters were at work, but quickly shed back to the relative safety of the side chambers as they recognised their patron and his daughter.

At the presence of the wracks Kaelindrach felt _Aelindris_ stir. The Archon placed a hand on the wicked blade's mandrake-black light-absorbing hilt to calm the weapon's dark sentience. The soul-thirsty sword returned to dormancy as it felt its master's touch.

_Aelindris_ was a word in an ancient mythological eldar dialect and literally translated as _Shard_ _of Darkness_ or _Edge of Midnight._

The unnaturally dark blade had an edge as keen as any daemon-imbued weapon and a sentience while it was not a warp creature was easily as malicious and bloodthirsty; the crystalline blade itself was wickedly curved and when drawn sinister hues of red, blue and green would dance over the deeply amethyst surface.

No one knew how or where the Archon had acquired this eerie djin blade, only that he had carried it as long as any member of the Dark Tear had known and served him.

The weapon possessed a will of its own and was loyal to the Archon and him alone. It had even attained a dark reputation of its own within the ranks of the Kabal.

One day an infiltrator of considerate skill from a rival Kabal had broken into the Dark Tear's hierarch spire to steal the sword. At the beginning of the next cycle the would-be thief had been found dead in the royal chambers with a look of utter terror on his face and the dread blade lying just out of reach of his cold lifeless fingers.

The discordance of screams gradually faded in the background as the pair descended into the very heart of the monstrous lair.

The sheer size of the labyrinth down here were near-overwhelming, Kaelindrach knew that at least a handful of his warriors had never returned from a journey into its depths, he guessed that they had gotten lost and was now either decorating a wall somewhere or turned into some vile creation by the gruesome experimentation taking place here. It didn't really matter. If they had been important to the Kabal they wouldn't have been sent down here in the first place.

It took nearly an hour to navigate through the maze of twisted corridors, stairs and chambers until they arrived at the entrance to the ancient Haemonculus' laboratory.

The passageway was impressive in its own right; poisonous-looking deathly green vapours were permeating the air leaving a nearly chocking sickly-sweet aroma behind. Enormous pale rips from some gargantuan beast were crafted intro the walls making it seem like one was walking down the gullet of a colossal oceanic predator. The gate, which was easily tall and wide enough that the duo could have flown a raider through, was covered in engravings that displayed each of the thousand-and-one expressions of suffering.

As the two dark eldar approached the dark gate a hunchbacked wrack walked out from a hidden alcove to stand directly in front of the pair, blocking their way.

This particular specimen was even more hideous and grotesque than its brethren that they had encountered so far. Mutated bone-growth formed baroque racks about the creature's head and malformed shoulders. Its stature were so horribly misshapen that it was impossible to tell whether the creature had once been male or female, or whether it had even been an eldar at all.

Its legs and two of its three arms ended in a quartet of metallic claws while the last, which was attached about where the right shoulder blade should have been, ended in what appeared to be a bone-grown syringe that dripped thick drops of translucent fluid. The creature's face was hidden away beneath an unadorned inscrutable mask of simple dark steel. Due to the extensive alteration and the fact that it bore its master's personal icon burnt into its flesh Kaelindrach guessed that this pathetic being was one of the higher ranking haemacolytes, perhaps even the leading acothyst.

As it spoke its voice was a wet rasp that sounded like it was being choked in fluid.

"You are not allowed in there... the master is at work" the thing gurgled "If you disturb him... the consequences... will be... severe"

It halted a bit before continuing.

"Leave... or you will be... removed"

"Try it" Serynia uttered under her breath, a predatory smile caressing her lips.

Kaelindrach smiled. It was a sinister expression that showed his near vampyric canines. In a dangerously low tone he whispered.

"When the Archon of the Dark Tear calls, the haemonculi answer"

At the realisation of exactly who had arrived the stubborn expression on the wrack's face instantly changed to one of utter horror. It had just refused access to the master of its master. It would doubtlessly be tortured in exceedingly excruciating ways for that affront... if it was lucky.

Visibly shaken the wrack hesitated before turning and, shaking with trepidation, led them towards the chamber of the Black Ascendant's master haemonculus.

Kaelindrach noticed absently that Serynia was positively trembling now. Well, he thought to himself, nervousness was not something she would feel for long.

As soon as the hunchbacked creature touched the gate the enormous doors swung open, permitting them entrance. The room which was revealed beyond was shrouded in the artificial darkness of a dense vaporous miasma that saturated the chamber, making it impossible for even the two eldars' sensitive eyes to make out what was hidden within.

The wrack, with a voice choked with fear of what its master would do to it, called out weakly into the murkiness.

"M...ma...master? There are visitors..."

The voice which answered from within was slow, patient and perfectly articulate.

"Of whom are you speaking acothyst?"

The wrack all but got a nervous breakdown at this point, as if it had hoped that somehow the haemonculus would not be present.

"Th... the Archon of... of the Kabal a... and a companion, oh... oh Master of Suffering"

There was silence for a short while.

"Leave us" the command was spoken softly with no hash tone or rise in voice but an underlying nuance of unforgiving displeasure ringed the words like thorns on a rose.

The wrack hastily left the chamber before it risked insulting its master further. The doors closed behind it with a soft thump.

The Archon did not spare a second thought for the pathetic creature's no doubt agonizing fate.

With deliberate slowness the Haemonculus Ancient revealed himself from within the nebulous vapour shroud, floating over the floor with the aid of a pair of suspensor crystals.

Kaelindrach saw from the corner of his eye that Serynia fought the impulse to take a step back in shocked repulsion at her first sight of the macabre eldar.

Rhakatra'akh was a creature twisted and altered to suit its perverse aesthetics that owed more to madness than any sense of beauty. The haemonculus was unnaturally tall and skeletal thin, even had it stood on the ground Kaelindrach, who himself was both tall and slender, would have to slightly crane back his neck to look it in the eyes.

Rhakatra'akh's sparse alabaster frame was completely devoid of any body fat, its waspish waist too thin to possibly harbour internal organs. Its spines terminated in a number of tail-like appendages that writhed across the floor like skeletal serpents. At the other end they extended above its neck to form an elaborate bone rack that framed its head like am intricate ribcage.

Eyes with milky white pupils so large they completely blocked out its irises, regarded the two kabalites with feverish intensity from within sunken sockets in an unnaturally gaunt face that was so pale as to be near transparent.

Each of its six long spidery arms ended in a long-fingered hand that carried a variety of diabolical surgical instruments. Its skin had a deathly greenish pallor that made it look like a walking corpse.

The haemonculus was truly ancient and for a moment Kaelindrach wondered whether it was one of those to have heard the birth-cry of _She Who Thirsts_ with his own mortal ears and felt her insatiable hunger directly on his tainted soul.

At the sight of the Archon Rhakatra'akh gave a bow that was so deep it should not have been possible by any creature with a spine, let alone several.

"Lord Kaelindrach" the haemonculus stated formally, an noticeable air of obedience crawling into its words "Archon of the Dark Tear, Slayer of the Kha system, Scion of darkness, Vampire of souls. Welcome to my humble abode"

Despite his megalomania that bordered on delusions of godhood Rhakatra'akh was highly steeped in formality, going so far as to invent titles for people based on their exploits or simply chose those he felt appropriate or ironic; however he was very careful to respect the Archon and make sure there was not a hint of mockery in the titles.

Kaelindrach gave a near imperceptibly tilt of his head to indicate his acceptance of the haemonculus.

"What do I owe this pleasure?" Rhakatra'akh asked eloquently, stressing the last word with every effort of sincerity.

Kaelindrach raised an eyebrow slightly at his daughter who at the unspoken command produced a small mnemo-sphere from its attachment to her armour that she near reverently held out to the ancient one. Rhakatra'akh gently took the fragile orb in one wizened hand and affixed it to a neural stimuli port in the back of his neck.

The haemonculus' eyes seemed to glass over as the memory stream from the mnemo-sphere flooded his mind with all the information and details of his client's wish.

When he had absorbed all the information Rhakatra'akh lowered his gaze to the young eldar, a lascivious smile slowly creeping across his face.

"Such a metamorphosis will be extremely complex my lord" he said very carefully, his eyes never leaving Serynia despite the statement being intended for her father.

Kaelindrach took out a small transparent crystal vial filled with clear liquid that he held out before the haemonculus.

Rhakatra'akh slowly shifted his gaze to the vial before taking it. With exaggerating slowness he let a single droplet slide down on his black barbed tongue.

The haemonculus let his head fall back in pleasure and savoured the taste, like a connoisseur relishing the flavour of a particularly fine wine.

"Determination, ambition, with just a hint of vainglory" the haemonculus spoke dreamily as the liquid worked its way to the back of his tongue "female, mon-keigh" he finished.

"Tears" Kaelindrach said, well knowing that the ancient one had know that immediately "from the mon-keigh monarch of the world of the last raid, Lady Ophelia, if memory serves"

At the ugly sound of the name in the mon-keigh tongue the vampyric sigils of the medallion-like soul trap locket Kaelindrach wore around his neck pulsed slightly.

"Consider it an appetiser" the Archon continued "As for the rest; I believe a sample of the Ilinuia harvest would suffice"

At this Serynia looked at her farther, surprise clear in her amber eyes. Ilinuia was the eldar name for the human planet of Orion Secundus which had been the most successful raid in the recent history of the Dark Tear Kabal.

The collected wealth in souls and slaves from that raid could sustain the Kabal for more than an entire twilight phase, even after the various alliances had had their share and tribute had been paid to the Black Heart.

That the Archon of the Dark Tear was willing to offer a portion, no matter how small, of this spoke of the importance of the operation.

Rhakatra'akh nodded gratefully in appreciation for the generosity, knowing that his Archon could simply have ordered it without further due.

"Of course my lord that would be more than enough"

Kaelindrach gave an inconspicuous nod to his daughter.

At that Serynia stripped out of her ghostplate armour and the skin-tight wraithskin suit beneath it with fluid grace to stand naked before the haemonculus.

Like a sculptor inspecting a block of a promising working material the ancient one moved around the young eldar while his milky eyes scrutinised every inch of her slender body and flawless skin. Then he moved away, his face set in a satisfied expression.

Neither of the two kabalites could feel the mnemo-command that Rhakatra'akh send but both immediately realised the result.

A long thin segmented metallic wire appeared out of the darkness and fast as lightning coiled itself around Serynia, snatching her off her feet while pinning her arms to her sides and lifting her up into the air.

The culprit revealed itself as an enormous scorpion-like shape loomed out of the vaporous murkiness.

A Talos pain engine, a semi-sentient construct that was partly organic and partly mechanical and many times the size and strength of its creator.

Hovering with menacing slowness its body was encased in nearly impregnable black beetle-like carapace from beneath which the wire holding Serynia emerged. One arm ended in a taloned hand with fingers that could crush a mon-keigh space marine and the other in an overlarge pincer that was no doubt even more deadly. The armoured scorpion-like tail that rose over the construct's body was armed with a stinger pod capable of firing pulses of raw materialised agony.

Despite the apparent viciousness of the action the haemonculus was very meticulously careful that nothing befell the young eldar, if even an unintended scratch marred her flawless skin his fate would be very dire indeed.

The Talos gently lowered Serynia down to the operating platform in the centre of the chamber and withdraw the segmented wire. Before she could move the gravitic coils activated, restraining her to the table without doing any undue damage that was not part of the process.

Kaelindrach put a gauntlet-clawed hand on Rhakatra'akh's shoulder as the haemonculus began moving towards the tablet, a gesture that, had he been anyone else, would have been his last, as it was the haemonculus was the one in danger.

"You consider yourself an artist, haemonculus? Then make this your masterpiece"

The ancient eldar's eyes lowered to the floor in submissive acquiescence, the word of the Archon was law. After a few seconds however he bared his teeth in a gleeful smile. Kaelindrach could see from the glint in his eyes that he longed for a worthy challenge.

"Of course, as you desire lord Archon"

As the haemonculus moved over to the slab he waved off the wracks that had gathered around his young patient, all of whom quickly scuttled away to a respectful distance. This was one project that through either enthusiasm or respect to the Archon he would work on with his own six hands.

The first thing that the ancient one did was affix a small neotic crystal, which was keyed into the haemonculi's mnemo-link, to the base of his client's neck so that she could fully understand just what was happening to her.

It was a testament of deep respect, and to and even deeper degree fear, because of his status and power that Kaelindrach was allowed to stay and observe the secret arts of the master at work.

Kaelindrach did not watch however, he leaned back and closed his eyes, not because he did not want to look but because his other senses would then sharpen.

Serynia began to scream shortly after.

Judging from the sound the agony being inflicted upon her was excruciating in a way she had never experienced before.

Kaelindrach drank in every nuance of her suffering and savoured it, the sound of her screams, the smell of her newly emerging tears and the taste of her fear. With his more eerie senses he could even appreciate the dolor within her soul-self.

That would be the first, last and only time the Archon would ever feed on the anguish of his most treasured.

Had this been harm that someone were inflicting for the sake of it _Aelindris_ would even now be feasting on their souls.

But this was a good pain, pain that had a purpose beyond its infliction and as such was to be experienced and savoured.

Kaelindrach knew of a tendency among the mon-keigh to utilise a substance they called "painkillers", a stuff that dulled or even removed pain altogether. It was an inclination which to the Archon seemed counterintuitive at best. How would one appreciate, endure and learn from pain if one mitigated it artificially?

But then again humans as individuals had ever been pathetically weak creatures.

No eldar, at least none that dwelled within the Dark City, were prone to such mortal weaknesses.

The Archon returned his awareness to the transformation. He held no worries about the final result despite or perhaps because the master haemonculus' reputation for unpredictability.

When another of the Black Ascendant's haemonculi was paid for their service they delivered precisely what their customer wanted.

That was not the case with Rhakatra'akh; he had an uncanny ability to predict and deliver not what the client asked for, but what they actually wanted, even if they did not know it themselves. The final result would always prove superior and more to the client's liking than what they had imagined but also more often than not far more expensive than expected, and woe to those who could not pay the new price.

Serynia's metamorphosis was the single longest and most involved transformation that the ancient haemonculus had undertaken in his millennia long life.

Doing the entire process none of those present slept, even for one moment. Kaelindrach would not miss a second of what would be the key to his daughter's own ascendance. Rhakatra'akh was far too deeply involved in what would be the artistic jewel in the crown of his work as a haemonculus to be bothered by something as trivial as sleep. And for Serynia the blissful oblivion of sleep was simply an impossibility.

Kept at his peak despite the lack of sleep due to the raw waves of agony being channelled through the haemonculi coven's labyrinth Kaelindrach took note when Serynia's screams, which had become gradually fainter as they took their toll on her throat, ceased completely. Not because the pain was gone but because Rhakatra'akh had begun working on her vocal cords.

Although his inscrutable pristine features gave no sign of it Kaelindrach felt an unfamiliar sensation. Despite knowing full well how this would be an invaluable asset to not only his daughter but the Kabal as a whole he felt the blood in his veins inexplicably beginning to slowly boil with incense at the agony someone besides himself were experiencing.

The Archon let his hand fall down to _Aelindris'_ hilt to let its reassuringly cold dark presence wash over him, quenching this aberrant feeling.

The haemonculus were over halfway through his living piece of art when he began working on the signature part of the transformation; the wings.

Even though the Archon, like every other inhabitant in the Dark City, knew next to nothing about the dark art of the haemonculi he did know that it was customary to _graft on_ any new or replacement parts to the subject.

He noted with mild curiosity that Rhakatra'akh had chosen the far more intensive and involved method of _growing_ the new appendages directly from the young eldar's own body by slightly altering her quintuple helix DNA strings at the genetic level and accelerating the growth with dosses of hyper-stimulants. It was a virtually abandoned technique that while yielding more impressive results was far more arduous and dangerous to the subject.

Next the ancient one moved on to work directly on the new avian extremities.

It felt like an aeon before Kaelindrach sensed a change, but when it did come it was unmistakable; the constant sound of pain engines working subsided and the skittering scuttle of wrack assistants ceased, his daughter's breathing and heartbeat returned to its slow and regular pulsing and he could no longer taste pain in the air.

His eyes snapped open and he moved stiff muscles for the first time in several cycles.

The Archon took in the layout in a single glance. The wracks had retreated to the murky gloom and the pain engines seemed to have returned to their hives.

Rhakatra'akh stood back, still as a stature and barely more than a shadow with his face set in an expediently nervous expression, dearly hoping that the Archon was satisfied.

Kaelindrach then turned his gaze to the one thing that deserved his attention; his daughter.

Serynia had just leapt down from the operating tablet, her body shaking from the experience she had just been through, her eyes red from tears and her body glistening with cold sweat.

She had however not as much as a single scar or scratch despite her graceful body being covered in stains of her own glistening dried blood. As he had expected the regeneration process had completely healed any harm done doing the metamorphosis.

The first thing the Archon noted was the wings; marvellous, graceful wings. With a span of over three metres they were longer than those of the ordinary scourge.

The young eldar bowed down and spread her wings wide for her lord's approval. Kaelindrach could see that the feathers were a myriad of hues; particularly, vivid dark shades of blue, green, red and purple. His sharp eyes could also detect faint slivers of metallic silver and wondered what coursed those. The various colours blended elegantly and the overall effect was as ominous as it was spectacular. The Archon approved.

Next he turned his attention to her hands, rather than nails each finger now ended in slender razor sharp talons, each about an inch in length.

Kaelindrach was pleased to note that aside from these things, his daughter possessed no aesthetic features beyond those she had been blessed with from birth.

"Welcome back from the realm of suffering _Little Wing_" he had not used Serynia's nickname since she had been a little girl but for obvious reasons it was too appropriate to pass up.

Serynia smiled weakly, the simple fact that the terrible pain was receding allowed no other reaction.

The Archon handed his daughter her wraithskin suit and when she had donned that her ghostplate armour as well, both of which had already been modified to accommodate her new form before the two of them undertook their journey down here.

Kaelindrach inclined his head faintly towards the haemonculus, a slight but sincere gesture that conveyed his approval.

Rhakatra'akh bowed deeply to acknowledge the gesture; he did not ask for his payment, he just had to hope that the Archon would deliver what he had promised and be content with whatever result his lord decided.

The two kabalites left the chamber. Serynia was barely able to walk but her father did not assist her, that was not the dark eldar way.

Shortly into the return journey Kaelindrach cast a glance over his shoulder at the newly reborn scourge and allowed himself a sincere smile, before continuing up through the dimly lit dark corridors.


End file.
